Harry Potter and the Jewels of Armageddon
by The Crimson Peacock
Summary: Four powerful jewels. Three of them have been recovered by Death Eaters, the fourth hiding just beyond their reach. When these jewels are reunited, a destructive force unlike any other will wreak much havoc on both the Wizard and Muggle worlds. Harry Pott
1. The Filial Pact

Well this is it! The commencement of a fanfic that I've been planning for _so_ long. The first attempt at it was a complete disaster. So, I'm writing it all over again. Just as a slight A/N, this hasn't been edited yet, so any improvements, or anything that doesn't seem right, or isn't right (in the context of Order of the Phoenix and books previous only), please let me know! It will immensely when I do edit it.

**Chapter One: The Filial Pact**

A figure sat in the darkness of a cell in Azkaban, the wizard prison. Through a window high up the wall in the cell, the last remaining daylight poured into the cell, creating an eerie, icy blue glow. Every now and then, the glow was completely blocked out because of a dementor or two still loyal to the Ministry of Magic, but these dementors were only floating by, insuring the security of Azkaban.

This figure was not the only one in the Wizarding prison; several others were held, all in separate cells. Dark cloaks covered most all of these figures.

The cloaked body rose and walked around, clearly angry at the events that occurred only a few weeks ago. A lengthy rant involving the Department of Mysteries, and how Lucius had avoided capture, while the rest of the servants had to serve sentences in Azkaban, could be heard from the woman pacing back and forth in her cell.

"I just can't believe this!" the woman cried, obviously outraged. "How could Lucius not have been captured, he was right beside us the entire ti–"

"Bellatrix," another prisoner said, calmly. "We've heard this a million times now. We are all angry that Lucius wasn't captured, however, no matter what you say, we can't change that at the moment." His temper was slowly rising. "So you can shut up about him and wait out your term."

"My _term_, Macnair, is a life sentence," Bellatrix said, annoyed, "And as such, I think it only fair that Lucius be in here with us because he was fighting right along side us."

"So we've heard," a different voice sneered. Bellatrix glared at the source of the voice.

"Nobody's asked you, Dolohov. Shut up."

"You're asking _me_ to shut up, especially after we've asked _you_ to shut up?" Dolohov asked, and was about to make a particularly nasty comment towards his fellow Death Eater when another interrupted and demanded that everyone stopped arguing.

"Look, Bellatrix, what's done is done. However, we don't need to hear complaining every night about Lucius," the fourth Death Eater, Nott, sighed. "Everyone else, the last thing we need right now is for us to drift apart over the fact that Lucius wasn't arrested. _He wasn't caught_. So can we please stop arguing?"

"But–" Bellatrix tried to argue, but Nott held up is hand for silence, leaving the female Death Eater with a scrunched up, annoyed, face.

Miles and miles away, in an enormous estate, a man discussed the meaning of power with his son.

"I want you to use whatever means necessary in order to obtain this stone," the father ordered, with no emotion. "If you fail to accomplish this task, I will be very upset and disappointed, and I may even become very violent."

"And what significance does this stone have?" the son asked. "I mean, I don't want to be risking my life for just something that'll make us richer than we already are. I want to know that this stone really has great power."

"Draco, you are in no position to be questioning my orders," Draco's father replied, coldly. "All I want is for you to get this stone, in whatever way you can. As such, I'll need you to sign this." The man slipped a piece of paper from his pants pocket onto the table. Draco unfolded it, and his mother (who was also present in the room) gasped in disbelief.

"Lucius, how could you–"

"Quiet, Narcissa, you've no place in this deal." Draco's face was paler than normal, and his face wore an expression of fear and apprehension.

"Father…you can't expect me to sign _this_," he held the paper up, "without any information about the stone: what it looks like, exactly how it will give us power, an idea of where it might be…"

"If I knew where it was, I would get it myself," Lucius snapped. "However, after asking around, I heard that it was somewhere in the general area of Hogwarts. Now, you are a student there, and I am not. It would look a bit odd for me to be hanging around Hogwarts, would it not?"

Draco reluctantly consented, picking up a quill that his father had left on the table. Dipping it in the ink, he could see that his right hand was shaking nervously. In one last attempt to dissuade his father, he said, "You do know what will happen if I fail, of course?"

"Yes," Draco's father answered, beginning to sound annoyed. "However, I am confident that you will not fail, and with an attitude like the one you have now, I begin to doubt that. So would you hurry and sign The Contract?" Draco's hand shook as he slowly signed his name at the bottom. Once finished, he gave his father an 'I-Hate-You' glare, and stalked off to bed.

"Just so you know, I'm only doing this because of the so-called power that it'll bring the family, not because you trust me!" he called down to his father.

Narcissa heard her son storm up the stairs, and once she was certain he was out of ear-shot, she gave her husband a scornful glare, that Lucius interpreted to mean that he should be ashamed of what he just did.

"Narcissa…this wasn't my choosing," he explained, trying to make his wife comfortable with the situation.

"I know that, Lucius," she snapped, clearly angry with her husband. "But this is our only son we are talking about, and you are threatening his life! I can't believe you can't show a little more–"

Lucius Malfoy slapped his wife. "You blabbering idiot! I just told you, this wasn't an idea of my creation! This was Master's idea." Narcissa was shocked, and became suddenly speechless at what her husband just did. With a growl, she lunged at him.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU, LUCIUS MALFOY!"

Draco, who hadn't actually gone to bed, was listening to their argument in the next room over, after sneaking back downstairs. He felt half-amused that the two were arguing, but also half-terrified, partially for the same reason. He knew how much of a bad mood they were both going to be in tomorrow.

But what terrified him most about this argument was that he found out that he was working for You-Know-Who, and not his father. He had sworn to Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle that he wouldn't start serving You-Know-Who until after h graduated from Hogwarts. But h wasn't a Death Eater right now, so there wasn't any reason to worry. If he failed, at least he wouldn't be to blame. He'd be dead.

Lucius Malfoy threw his wife off of him, after a few minutes of quarreling. He had acquired a few scratches on his wrinkleless face, and was beginning to get very angry at the stupidity of his wife.

"Are you ignorant, Narcissa? If I were to refuse one of Master's orders we'd _all_ be killed!"

"But this is _Draco_!" she cried, her tone of voice switching from angry to pleading. "He's my only son!"

"I know that, you idiot, he's my only son too, but this is Master's order, and I am obliged to obey it. If you are threatening or questioning what Draco and I have just did, and what I've ordered Draco to do, you are almost directly questioning Master's order. You'd be killed for treason almost immediately!"

"I'd rather die than Draco die," Narcissa said desperately. She reached to grab The Contract, but Lucius snatched it off the table before Narcissa could get a hold of it and rip it to shreds.

"Idiot woman," Lucius muttered under his breath as he summoned the family's owl over to him. "Putting herself and her concerns over Master's." He folded up The Contract, along with a short letter he scribbled out in a few seconds.

_Master- Success! Draco has signed The Contract and we should have the Water Amulet by the end of the next Hogwarts school year!_ it read.

Tying the letter and The Contract to the owl's leg, he mumbled, "She'd be killed in an instant!" "You know whom to go to," he said to the owl, and it fluttered off into the cool night.

Narcissa was crying now, sobbing about how her husband just put her only son in the most threatening situation of his life. Lucius turned, annoyed with his wife's stupidity.

"Narcissa, I assure you, Draco will be fine. He _will_ bring home the Water Amulet, and the document that I just sent off to Master guarantees that."

"No," Narcissa rebutted. "It only guarantees that he's risking his life to get it."

"And would an ambitious boy such as Draco consider the possibility of failure under those conditions? No!"

The argument was beginning to get more and more amusing to Draco, who wasn't as concerned about the conditions of the agreement he made anymore. _And would an ambitious boy such as Draco consider the possibility of failure_.

A shrill scream interrupted Draco's daydreaming. The scream definitely belonged to his mother, he thought. But what was wrong with her? Was it is father? Before he could contemplate the matter any longer, the light illuminating from his Muggle lamp (Draco found this a most excellent way to sneak light into his house without breaking the Underage Restriction of Magic law, even if his family despised Muggles) suddenly went completely black.

Why this happened, Draco was not sure. He never took Muggle Studies, and he certainly didn't want to risk expulsion from Hogwarts by performing magic here; after all, the stone he was supposed to find for his father was supposedly located there.

He couldn't figure out what the trouble was with the lamp, so he wrapped the electric cord (he had managed to create a Muggle outlet, and with magic, wired the house with electricity, which resulted in a letter from the Ministry) around the body of the lamp and climbed the stairs to the second floor, depositing the Muggle appliance safely in his room where it couldn't be found. Emerging from his room, he heard another scream, again from his mother.

He thought against rushing down to see what was the matter; his father would definitely become suspicious of anything else he'd heard, other than a scream. Instead, he turned back into his room and changed into his nightclothes, and climbed reluctantly into bed. He had trouble falling asleep, as he kept thinking about the two screams he had heard from the kitchen area. "I hope Father hasn't hurt Mother," he said drowsily and drifted off to sleep.

A third figure had Apparated into the room. Dressed completely in black robes, the two adults immediately recognized the person now standing before them. Narcissa screamed, thinking the person was a thief or a murderer.

"Master…" Lucius whispered, subserviently. "Master what an honor it is to have you in our home." Lucius knelt down, bowing his head. Narcissa stopped her screamed and followed apologizing, but saying that her Master had gave her a scare.

"I just received your letter, Lucius," Voldemort said, his high-pitched voice sending chills up Narcissa's spine, despite the fact she'd heard it so many times before. "It's an obvious pleasure that your son has consented to do my bidding. And as I've said before, neither you, your wife, nor your son will make any mention of this mission, or else…"

The Dark Wizard raised his wand, and without muttering an incantation created a holographic image of Lucius and himself casting a Killing Curse at him. Narcissa's eyes widened in fear, but she didn't let her Master see them.

Lucius was obviously rattled by the image as well, but recovered, saying "Of course, Master, the task shall be carried through as quickly as possible, and I guarantee it to be a success." As Lucius bowed, Voldemort said, "It had better be," and Disapparated.

Narcissa looked as though she was about to burst into tears and complain about her only son being put in danger, but didn't want to combat her husband's bad side again. Her stomach still hurt from where he had managed to elbow her, hard. Most of all, she didn't want to spoil Lucius's good mood.

"I've changed my mind," she said, a smile on her face, sounding unusually giddy. "I'm not concerned about Draco's safety in the slightest anymore; I'm confident he can pull off obtaining the Water Amulet." She pushed Lucius aside, gently, humming merrily to herself as she ascended the stairs to her bedroom.

"What the devil has gotten into her?" Lucius thought aloud, with a slightly suspicious look on his face. He followed her upstairs into the bedroom, and climbed into bed on the opposite side from his wife, and fell asleep almost immediately.

Bellatrix Lestrange fell asleep in her Azkaban cell, muttering, "Wonder what Lucius is up to now…" and yawning. Once asleep a figure rose and waved his wand.

"_Silencio_," cut through the silent night, and the spell hit Bellatrix squarely in the throat, assuring that they didn't have to put up with her complaints tomorrow… or the day after… or the day after that… as they had for the last week. They all knew she was just jealous of him, and wanted to be free to do Master's bidding. She was also obviously still bitter from the incident at the Department of Mysteries, and how Harry had destroyed Master's reputation, first by bad-mouthing him and calling him a half blood, and then for smashing the Prophecy, and finally had them rounded up and put here.

The flash of light that erupted from the tip of the Death Eater's wand had woken several others, but not Bellatrix herself. They all quietly seemed to question what was going on.

"It's okay, you don't need to be silent," the Death Eater, Dolohov, said. "I've just put her under a Silencing Spell. She's silent for now, but the more she tries to talk, the longer the Charm lasts. And if need be, we can perform another." The other Death Eaters snickered.

As if thinking that a mere Silencing Spell wasn't enough, the Death eater known as Macnair cast an incantation that would prevent any sound from escaping Bellatrix's Azkaban cell.

The remaining Death Eaters snickered again, and one by one fell asleep.


	2. Aunt Petunia's Surprise

Well, Chapter Two. I must say, even though I had the general gist of what was going to happen this chapter, I am completely surprised at the content, and how I executed the ideas I had. Anyway, again, this hasn't been edited yet, so if you find any mistakes, please tell me! (Just as a side-note, the original chapter title was going to be "Bittersweet Sixteen," but I'll let you guess why I didn't name it that at the end :-P).

**Chapter Two: Aunt Petunia's Surprise**

Harry Potter awoke with a start. The lightning-shaped scar that lay upon his forehead was searing with pain, as if someone had just branded it there. He panted heavily, noticing he was drenched with sweat and on the floor with blankets surrounding him. He took his bearings, and realized he was in his bedroom at the Dursleys, and not in Draco Malfoy's house.

It occurred to him that Voldemort was showing him something. But how? How had he managed to break through Harry's Occlumency shields? And why? Why would Voldemort want him to know about this Ocean Amulet? And what was so special about it anyway? Did he purposely want Harry to see this to see if he would actually stop Draco and end up with Draco dead? And what was this contract that they had talked about?

His musings were interrupted by a fierce rattle on the door. Aunt Petunia screeched, "Harry, you'd better get down here now or else we're moving you back to the cupboard under the stairs."

Harry could not ignore a threat like this, and rushed downstairs. He then remembered it was his Cousin Dudley's 16th birthday, and regretted the decision to obey his aunt. His aunt glared at him, and was accompanied by his uncle. Today was going to be a long day.

As he scrambled eggs in a frying pan, and sizzled bacon in another, he couldn't stop thinking about the dream he had. The more he thought about it, the more splitting the ache in his head became.

He served the breakfast of scrambled eggs with bacon, and immediately reached for some fresh fruit and bread to toast. His aunt had informed him that Dudley was on a diet, as ordered by the boxing coach at Smeltings. However, it appeared that Dudley's new diet consisted of about twice as much as it had before, and he was swelling, especially in the areas of the stomach and face.

Once the Dursleys had finished breakfast, Harry helped himself to some eggs, bacon, and toast. He was about to sit down with his meal when Uncle Vernon snapped, "What do you think you're doing? You should be cleaning the kitchen right now, not eating. Any _intelligent_ boy would know that. I guess they don't teach common sense at _your people's_ school like they do at Smeltings, right m'boy?"

"Mmhm," Dudley said, with his mouth full of something he had found after searching through the refrigerator. He nodded.

"Dudders, that's disgusting!" Aunt Petunia exclaimed, reaching for a garbage can. "Don't eat moldy bread if you don't want to get sick."

"But I'm hungry!" he complained, stealing Harry's breakfast plate, which had been the last of the eggs and bacon. Harry reached to grab his plate, but didn't really feel like facing the wrath of the Dursleys. The events of last year had caused him to go into a state of almost-depression. When he wasn't lying around his room doing absolutely nothing, he was in the kitchen eating or cleaning. But he mostly refused meals.

Dudley quickly wolfed down Harry's breakfast, and was about to run up to his room to play on his PlayStation when Uncle Vernon said, "Well boy, off to the driving school so you can test for your license!" Rather than throw a tantrum that he didn't get to play videogames, he smiled and rushed off to get dressed. In all the confusion, Harry considered himself lucky for getting off from cleaning the kitchen.

He ran back down the stairs, almost tripping over himself three times. Aunt Petunia kissed him goodbye, wishing him good luck, and closed the door behind Uncle Vernon. She then turned to Harry, Harry bracing himself for the worst.

"I think it's time someone told you about your mother."

Harry was stunned. Had he heard his aunt correctly? She was talking about her sister? And on Dudley's birthday too, wow! His mouth stood ajar, half-hoping that she wasn't joking.

"Well, sit down!" she ordered, the first order she gave him that he was happy to obey.

"Just one question, Aunt Petunia… are you on crack?" Harry asked. "Or did you take Polyjuice Potion?" His aunt shook her head to both questions, which shocked Harry even more.

"Do you think I'd tell you if I had taken Polyjuice Potion and was someone else?" she inquired, Harry admiring her intellect for just this once. "So Harry, can you tell me what you already know about your mother?"

Harry nodded, and replied, "Well, I know that here eyes look exactly like mine, for her appearance. I know she was probably top of her class at Charms and Potions. Her wand was made from willow, but I don't quite remember the length…"

"Ten and a quarter inches, but continue," Aunt Petunia interrupted, and Harry was surprised how much she remembered about her sister. She usually just blocked her out, pretending she didn't exist.

"Er…yeah. Well, she was killed by Voldemort–" Aunt Petunia cringed at the name, something she'd never done before. "When I was one, so in 1981."

"Yes. Anything else?"

"Er…no."

"Okay, then, one second," his aunt said, moving swiftly to the cupboard under the stairs that had previously been his bedroom. He watched his aunt retrieve a big box of stuff from the very back of the closet. On the side of the box, "LILY" was written in large letters. "Sorry, I had to hide this from Vernon and Dudley for so long. It was under a bunch of other stuff so they wouldn't notice it."

Harry nearly destroyed the box itself from rushing to open it. He wanted to know what was inside it, what his aunt had been keeping from him all of these years. The first item he found in the box was a wand. His mother's wand.

"That wand saved my life once," Harry's aunt remarked. "When Lily–" Harry had never heard Aunt Petunia even mention her name before, "and I were out for a walk, a guy by the name of Severus Snape, I believe, (Harry laughed silently) just randomly jumped out from a bush and started attacking me. Luckily, Lily performed and Impediment Charm, so Severus was thrown backwards. Maybe he thought I was Lily, because she later told me that she and he didn't get along very well. I remember an owl was waiting for us when we got home, saying something about breaking an Underage Restriction Law. I didn't know what it was at the time, but when we were informed that you weren't permitted to perform magic outside of school, it suddenly became clear that she wasn't allowed to do that Impediment Charm, and got a warning. You should've seen the look of outrage on our parents' face," she concluded, with a smile.

Harry placed the wand gently on the table, as if it contained part of his mother's soul. He then shifted through some of the papers that now lay on the top of the pile of Lily Potter's belongings. Some of the things he found included old essays of his mother's that were remarkably similar to Hermione's. Nearly every sheet of parchment he found wore a giant "O" at the top, proudly. _Yup,_ Harry thought, _Very Hermione-esque_. The only papers he could find that didn't have an "O" at the top, he quickly discovered, were Divination essays and History of Magic homework. So he took after his mother in his interests in classes, as well.

"But why are you showing all of this to me?" Harry questioned. "And now, not before or later?"

"Dumbledore's orders," she said, simply. "I doubt I'd be showing these to you right now if he hadn't–"

"Anyway…" Harry interrupted. "He lifted the huge stack of papers out of the box, and found his mother's old Hogwarts cloak. As he lifted it out of the box, something fell out of the cloak; a sapphire-colored, small box that looked like it held jewelry. He gazed curiously at the box, and closed his hand around it. Instantly, a wave of pain shot through his scar, and he moaned.

Aunt Petunia, who was distracted with her memory of Lily and Severus, looked to see what was wrong. Her nephew was holding the box that Lily had kept secret from her parents, and from everyone except for her. She gasped. "Where did you find that?" Her attitude had changed from reminiscing about all the good things Lily had done for her using you-know-what to slightly angry, like she normally acted around Harry.

"It- I- It fell out of the cloak here," he elucidated, thinking he did something wrong. "I picked it up because I didn't know what it was and my scar started- Wait, you know what this is?"

"Never you mind, Harry, give that box to me right now."

"Why? What is it?"

"It doesn't matter, give it here! That's an order!" her voice rising. Instead, Harry pocketed it quickly, dumped everything back into the large brown box, and quickly ran up to his room, his step being shortened by the surprising weight of cardboard box that held memories of his mother.

Closing the door as quick as he could, the lock clicked just as Aunt Petunia reached the door, swearing loudly as she said, "I _TOLD_ DUMBLDORE WE SHOULDN'T'VE TRUSTED YOU WITH THOSE YET!" She automatically reached for the lock that had been on the hallway side of Harry's door, and remembered that Vernon had removed after that strange man with the even stranger eye demanded that they didn't mistreat Harry. She swore even louder, not caring if the neighbors were interested in what was going on in number four, Privet Drive.

Harry's mind had been completely taken off of Sirius's death, and was focused solely on the box that bore the word "Lily" on it. Managing to take out the wand and essays without breaking or ripping or crumpling anything, he removed the cloak again. Nothing fell out of it this time. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the dark blue box, with his shirt sleeve covering his hand so as not to feel the pain he had before. He gently wrapped the box in the cloak, and set both aside. He dove his hand into the box again, and it produced another wand, a wand that was nearly the same length as his own, if not the exact same length.

"It's… dad's wand," he said, gripping it in his right hand. A silvery mist erupted from the tip. Not knowing what was going on, he quickly placed the wand next to his mother's, which was slightly shorter.

Harry's moment with his parents' belongings was interrupted by a bang and a shout. It sounded as if Uncle Vernon and Dudley had arrived home. He strained his ears to listen, but the words he was shouting were muffled by the door.

After hiding the brown box in a safe location (a floorboard he had uplifted, first used to store his magic books when the Dursleys took them from him and locked them in a closet), he opened the door a crack to hear what was going on.

"– DIDN'T GET HIS LICENSE! THE ONLY THINGS HE DID WERE CRASH INTO A TELEPHONE POLE AND RUN A RED–" Harry closed the door and laughed. Apparently Dudley's test hadn't gone so well, putting Uncle Vernon in a horrible mood. His laughing ceased.

Opening the door again, he could hear Dudley sobbing like a two-year-old, and Aunt Petunia comforting him, "Come here, Diddykins, it's not your fault, it's just the driving school being mean to my Diddykins–" Harry closed the door again and laughed, his godfather's death completely off of his mind at the moment.

A snowy white owl flew into the room through the open window, dropping a piece of parchment onto Harry's lap.

"Thanks Hedwig!" Harry said, excited at his first piece of mail the entire summer. He locked the door, and gave his owl a treat of mice-flavored pellets. Hedwig hooted, thanking her owner by gently nipping him on the ear.

Laughing, Harry opened the letter, to see neat handwriting scrawled quickly on it. It was from Hermione.

_Hey Harry, how are you! Hope the Muggles aren't giving you too much trouble. Anyway, Dumbledore told me to send you a letter, telling you that you'll be leaving the Dursleys very shortly (although I'm afraid I can't tell you when, in case this letter is intercepted). Looking forward to seeing you, Hermione_.

Harry nearly squealed with excitement. He was going to be leaving number four, Privet Drive before his birthday! He couldn't wait, and swiftly folded and packed the jumble of clothes and books that lay strewn all over the floor in messy clumps.

"BOY, GET DOWN HERE _NOW_!" he heard his uncle scream. Aunt Petunia had probably told his uncle that he'd stolen a box of his mother's things.

Bracing himself, Harry unlocked the door, and it immediately swung open. Uncle Vernon stood on the opposite side of the door, looking livid and purple-faced. Harry walked straight past him, to the surprise of Uncle Vernon, and walked down the stairs. Once reaching the landing on the first floor, he yelled up to his uncle, "What do you want?"

"Don't be smart with me, boy," Vernon said, triumphantly, ambling down the stairs. "I know exactly what you've done while we were out." He wore a smug, victorious look on his face.

"That makes two of us." Harry gritted his teeth, prepared for whatever Mr. Dursley was going to give to him.

"So, give us back the box, boy," Vernon Dursley growled.

"I'd be delighted to waltz up to my room and dance back down to give the box to you, especially after what I went through to obtain it in the first place!"

"Don't get smart with me, boy."

"Okay, I won't, you might not be able to understand me if I do." The smug grin was wiped off of Uncle Vernon's face, and replace by the same livid, purple-faced look Harry had experienced only moments before. He then scowled, having figured out Harry's character long before; Vernon knew Harry wasn't relinquishing his ownership of Lily's box, no matter what circumstances he'd find himself in.

"I would suggest saving your breath for a discussion with your son," Harry told his uncle, calmly, with a hint of amusement, "and exactly what your son can do to prevent himself from crashing into poles. Because, I know this might be a shock to you, Dudley crashing into a telephone pole with a Driver's Ed car isn't, funnily enough, their fault, but Dudley's." Harry then ran back up to his room, locking the door again.

Vernon removed his scowl for another livid face. He opened his mouth to shout at Harry, decided against it and closed it. He opened his mouth again to see if Harry would give the box back, but decided against that too, closing his mouth. It was a hopeless fight for the Dursleys, and they all knew it.

Dinnertime arrived way too early for Harry, as a scornful rattle interrupted him from a letter he was scribbling to Remus Lupin, despite that fact that it was most probable that they would reunite in a few days' time.

_Hi Professor Lupin, It's Harry. Just telling you that today was Dudley's (my cousin, the fat kid, remember?) birthday today, and that the Dursleys have an annoying habit of really making me lose my temper today. But that's not why I'm writing._

_I'm writing because my Aunt Petunia was showing me a box of my mother's old things, and I managed to find a small blue box that looks like it holds jewelry. My scar burns whenever I make skin to box contact with it, and I was wondering if you knew what it was? –Harry_

Harry arrived at the dinner table to see Aunt Petunia cooking steak. She had just placed cuts of beef into an oiled pan as Harry walked through the doorway into the kitchen. Her lips were pressed tightly together, as if someone had glued them together, and her face was paler than he'd ever seen it before.

Uncle Vernon still looked unhappy, and Dudley was still clearly upset that the driving school had not issued him his license, especially after he'd done so much better than he normally did.

Aunt Petunia gazed at him, half of it anger that he stole the box with her sister's belongings (but more importantly the box, which she hadn't told her husband about), and half of it saying 'Come over here and cook the dinner before your uncle gets very mad at you.'

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, and was about to say, "Cook the steaks for your aunt, boy," but Harry crossed the room to the stove before he could say a word. His uncle closed his mouth for the third time that day without saying anything.

Number four, Privet Drive, finished dinner without managing to make any noise other than the scraping of forks and knives against ceramic.

Harry had finished before everyone, and ran upstairs to his room. Uncle Vernon was about to protest about where he was going, but decided against doing that because Harry would most likely either ignore him or give him a vague answer, something he'd mastered last summer ("_Watching the news_.").

Opening the door to his room, Harry found that Hedwig had managed to find Professor Lupin and return with an answer. He excitedly ripped open the parchment envelope, and removed a sheet of parchment from it, with scribbling all over the top half, most of which was in all capital letters.

_Hi Harry, Good to see the Dursleys back to normal. But WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, DESCRIBING WHAT YOU FOUND IN SUCH GREAT DETAIL, AND MANAGING TO SEND OUT THE LETTER TO ME! WHAT IF HEDWIG WAS INTERCEPTED! Anyway, I'll give you more details about it later, next time I see you (which will hopefully be soon!). But please Harry, remember that Voldemort is back, and could be having his Death Eaters search through the letters every owl they come into contact with has. Be especially careful with anything you don't know about, like what your letter was about. –Remus Lupin_

Hearing Uncle Vernon roar, "GET DOWN HERE, BOY!" made Harry jump up and run downstairs, to find the Dursleys were lighting sixteen candles that were placed into an enormous cake that Harry guessed Dudley would eat most of.

They commenced singing "Happy Birthday," with neither Harry nor Dudley looking extremely amused. They both thought Dudley was too old for this kind of thing. Harry would be keen to point this out, but he didn't want to give Aunt Petunia a heart attack on her son's birthday.

Aunt Petunia forced Dudley's head over the enormous cake so h could blow out the candles. Dudley blew as hard as he could at the candles, but when his blow reached the candles, they each ignited, sending a whirl of fire towards Dudley. He pulled his head away just in time, but could not avoid making his mother scream in horror, and his father in anger. They both figured this was Harry's doing.

Harry looked both extremely amused and surprised, because he had no part in doing this. He turned to Uncle Vernon and, for the third time that night, saw the livid, purple-faced expression that only meant that he was about to scream himself hoarse at his nephew.

But before Uncle Vernon could do anything or say anything, there came a knock on the door. Harry felt as if something was squeezing his stomach. Could this be?

Uncle Vernon moved quickly to the door, stopping only to groom his hair in the mirror in the front hall, not wanted to upset this guest, even if it was a door-to-door salesman. He opened the door to be faced by a small girl, nearly three times smaller than himself, with bushy brown hair and abnormally large front teeth.

"Hi, you must be Mr. Vernon Dursley. I'm here to see Harry."


	3. Mayhem at the Dursleys

Well, chapter three (a.k.a the original chapter one…ideas-wise, anyway). Heh, this was a fun chapter to write, even if it's not nearly as long as the others. The Dursleys deserve to be put to shame ; Once again, and as always until I announce otherwise, this hasn't been edited, so please let me know if anything is wrong!

**Chapter Three: Mayhem at the Dursleys**

Not able to believe what he saw, Harry silently cheered. _I'm leaving today, _he thought. _Leaving this filthy place._ He rose out of his chair at the Dursley kitchen table, and ran to greet his friend Hermione.

Hermione looked equally delighted to see him, and that he didn't look _too_ malnourished. "Harry!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him as she jumped into the house. "It's good to see you, Harry." She beamed.

"It's great to see you, too," Harry happily said.

Without the Dursleys' consent, their nephew invited this girl with bushy brown hair and slightly large front teeth into their house. Before any of them had the chance to say anything, Hermione burst out into all smiles.

"I'm so excited Harry!" she exclaimed. "We've received results from our exams, and I've… I've received eleven O.W.L.s!"

O.W.L immediately registered to Uncle Vernon as the way to spell the name of the species of bird his nephew had taught him to loathe.

"Oh," Harry said, simply. "I haven't received my results yet… I wonder–" He was interrupted by Hermione's academic ramblings.

"–is wonderful! I'll be able to continue with all my classes as N.E.W.T. classes, although I'll probably have to drop a few because of the heavy workload, and I can't get a Time-Turner since they were destroyed during the fight we had at the Department of Mysteries. This is so exciting!" Hermione seemed to have said all of this without taking a breath of air.

After Hermione paused, and Harry hadn't said anything, Vernon seized the opportunity to interrogate this person.

"Who are you?" he asked suspiciously. "What relation do you have to Harry? Is he your boyfriend? If he is, I'll be shocked out of my mind…"

"My name is Hermione Granger, and I'm one of Harry's friends," she growled, slowing down at the last four words, glaring at Uncle Vernon.

"So, are you _one of them_ as well, or just someone he met on the street? And why in heaven's name would you want eleven owls? Don't you think one is more than annoying?" Hedwig hooted from upstairs, and Vernon screamed, "OWL!"

Hermione was losing her temper now, something Harry had never seen her do. He reached for his wand; anyone who dared mess with his friends faced his wrath.

Hermione shot him a worried look, and whispered, "Harry, put that away! You're in enough trouble with the Ministry right now, and you could be expelled from Hogwarts, even if you do one of the simplest, most harmless spells!" She turned Uncle Vernon, and continued losing her temper.

"_One of them_?" she nearly screamed. "_One of them_? I'm a Muggle-born, you know." Seeing the confused looks on Uncle Vernon's face, she elucidated. "Muggles are non-magical people. When someone in the _Wizarding world_ (not "_one of them_") is 'Muggle-born,' that means they have non-magical parents. I believe Harry's mother was a Muggle-born, as well."

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to probe further into the subject, but Aunt Petunia stopped him from talking about her sister. He closed his mouth without saying anything.

"As for O.W.L.s, you apparently are under the impression that we are talking about the species of bird, but we are not. O.W.L.s are Ordinary Wizarding Levels, an exam given to every Hogwarts student in their fifth year there. We just took them this past year, so we receive our results this summer." She turned to Harry. "So Harry, how'd you do?"

Harry looked surprised. Hermione normally paid attention. "Er… I already said that I didn't get mine yet."

Hermione looked surprised that she had missed that. "Well, not to worry, I'm sure you'll be getting them soon. We're headed off for the Burrow, of course." Harry brightened.

Uncle Vernon, while he wouldn't mind someone taking Harry off, suddenly snapped out, "So what, you come waltzing into our house, discuss you-know-what (which is a forbidden topic to talk about anyway), and then you expect to just waltz out with Harry?"

Hermione nodded.

"How do we know you aren't trying to kidnap him?"

Hermione suddenly lost her temper. "YOU ARE A FAT IDIOT!" she screamed. Harry stood back, enjoying the show.

Uncle Vernon took this insult personally, and defended himself by saying, "You're… a… you're _one of them_." He smirked with a look of victory. He continued, "And what is this burrow place, anyway. Sounds like a filthy place underground or something, and I don't know who in their right mind would want to live underground, like an uncivilized person." Aunt Petunia smirked as well.

It was almost immediately wiped off as Hermione continued on her rampage. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP! _STUPEFY_!" She withdrew her wand from her pocket, and cast the spell. A bright red flash of light hit Uncle Vernon squarely in the chest, throwing him backwards into the kitchen.

Dudley, angered at what this girl had done to her father, and delighted at the chance to practice his boxing, lunged at her, only to be thrown backwards as Hermione said '_Impedimenta_!'

Hermione kept her wand pointed at her friend's cousin, and then hissed, "_Tarantallegra_." Dudley's feet scrambled all over the place, preventing him from walking. Harry remembered a Death Eater using this on Neville, which ultimately ended up in the breaking of the prophecy. He then remembered Sirius, and suddenly became very morose.

His thoughts were shattered by the pleas of Dudley for his mother to help him, and he was quieted when Hermione firmly said, "_Petrificus Totalus_." The full Body-Binding spell locked Dudley's legs together, which ceased the wild movements of his legs from only moments before. "There, I fixed your legs for you," she spat, mercilessly.

Aunt Petunia screamed, as Mrs. Number Seven walked through the door, half because of Dudley's current state and half because Mrs. Number Seven might see something.

Hermione turned to see the Dursleys neighbor walk through the doorframe and into the house. "Not to worry," she said under her breath. "_OBLIVIATE_!" A wave of magic hit Aunt Petunia, Mrs. Number Seven, Dudley and Uncle Vernon. Their memories of this had been wiped clean of this event.

Taking advantage of the Dursleys' current mental state, Hermione opened the cupboard under the stairs, shoving Dudley and Aunt Petunia in. She walked over to Uncle Vernon, dragging him behind her, and shoved him into the closet, locking the door. "_Colloportus_."

Harry gave her a questioning look, as if the Dursleys didn't deserve to be locked in the cupboard that he had called home for so many years. Hermione was surprised Harry could be so forgiving towards them, despite how they treated him.

"Give them a taste of what you had to go through, being locked in that closet all day with no meals!" she screamed, hoping the neighbors had heard her. As she half ran out the door, she shoved past Mr. Number Twelve and Mrs. Number Three.

Harry got out his wand, and coldly said, "Leave them be." The neighbors backed off, scared of the boy who was sent to St. Brutus's School for Incurably Criminal Boys. "The first person I see near this door will be dead in an instant." That said, he rushed up the stairs, three at a time, and retrieved his trunk and Hedwig.

Sticking his wand back into his back pocket (and wondering if Mad-Eye Moody could see him at the moment), he grabbed his trunk, and heaved it down the stairs, and ran back up to get Hedwig. He met Hermione next to the Dursleys' car, a blue station wagon, as she finished her Memory Charm work on the rest of the neighborhood.

"Off we go, then?" she said, looking at Harry.

"Anywhere's better than there," he said, repeating exactly what he had told Uncle Vernon three years ago.

The walked down Privet Drive, Harry rolling his trunk behind him while Hermione carried Hedwig's cage. Somewhere down the road, they heard someone yell, "OWL!" and laughed together.

"So, where are we going now?" Harry inquired.

"The Burrow, I've already told you!" Hermione sighed. "I don't know how many times you've asked me things twice, and I don't know why I always tell you, but you've got to listen once in–"

"I _know_ we're going to the Burrow, Hermione, where else would we go?" Hermione stared at him blankly. "I meant, how're we going to _get_ there?"

She gave her friend a second blank expression.

"Oh come on, Hermione, you're possibly the cleverest witch in the history of time, surely you know some way of getting there?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, normally, I go by Floo Powder; Mrs. Weasley normally comes to my house and then we go to the Burrow. I don't actually know how to get there. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Hermione, I'm not saying it's your fault, I shouldn't have assumed that–"

"No, no, it's alright, I didn't expect you to know. Gosh, it would be such a pleasure if we could Apparate, wouldn't it?" Harry nodded in agreement as they reached the nearest bus stop. "Good thing we learn this year."

"Well, at least we know what town he lives in." They boarded the bus, and they were off to the train station.

On the bus, Hermione questioned Harry. "Since when did we know in which town he lived? Have I been missing out on something?"

Harry nodded. "Since Second Year, too. Shame, Ron never told you. Well, he never told me, either, it was Fred. Or was it George? I think it was Fr–"

"Well, get on with it!"

"Oh, sorry. Well, the Burrow is right outside the town of Ottery St. Catchpole. Either Fred or George, one of them, told me this summer going into Second Year, as I said, when they helped me escape from Privet Drive with the flying Ford Anglia."

"That was you?" Hermione gasped in disbelief. "You could've nearly exposed the Muggles to the Wizarding world! Do you realize–"

"Yes," Harry interrupted. "I realized this after both Snape and McGonagall, not to mention that Howler… weren't you there when Ron got that Howler?" He sighed, thinking Hermione might've remembered that. He could've sworn she was there to reprimand them. "But anyway, that's over and done with, no point in talking about it now."

A Muggle on the bus, the only other person on the vehicle other than the bus driver, Harry and Hermione, leaned over to Harry, grinning. "That was you who could make that car fly? I'm telling you, that was awesome, man, seeing a car flying like that. It was almost like mag–"

The Muggle was hit straight in the face with a Memory Charm, and suddenly appeared to know next to nothing about the event.

Harry turned toward his friend. "Do you realize how much magic you've done outside of school? You've probably done more in this past hour than I've done in my whole life! I'll be surprised if you don't get expelled from Hogwarts." He grinned.

Hermione grinned back, saying, "Shut up."

The bus stopped, as Harry lifted his trunk off of the bus, and Hermione carried Hedwig's cage out.

"We need to find a train to a town near Ottery St. Catchpole," Harry said.

"Yes, I know. We also need Muggle money."

Harry grinned, pulling out a wad of cash. "What, you think I left the Dursleys with just my trunk and Hedwig?" Hermione looked at him mischievously, with a face that said, 'Harry, you shouldn't have!' but Harry ignored it.

A/N: By the way, the Weasleys actually do live in an area outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. It took me forever to find it, but if you look in the American hardcover edition, on page 31, "'We're a little way outside this village,' said George. 'Ottery St. Catchpole.'" :-P (I doubt anyone doubted me anyway, but just to let you all know ).


	4. Flight of the Weasleys

Well, this was a, erm… shall I say… well, I thought this was probably the most boring chapter I've written so far, but it provides a lot of details as to… er, nevermind, that would reveal, like, the entire plot if I finished that sentence. whistles innocently Here you have it, Chapter Four.

**Chapter Four: Flight of the Weasleys**

Stepping off the second bus they'd been on that day, Harry and Hermione took in the surrounding area, hoping to spot some sort of landmark that would aid them in getting to the Burrow.

"It's not in this town," Harry said suddenly, curiously reading a town map that was located on street corner nearby the bus station. "We're in Ottery St. Catchpole at the moment. Fred, or George, I have no clue who, said that they lived outside of this town. I have no clue how far, or in which direction.

Hermione groaned.

"Well, it's not like we have to be there by today, or anything. Besides, I'm sure we'd be able to see it, it's big enough," Harry defended.

"Hasn't it got a Protection Charm, to keep Muggles from seeing it?" Harry acknowledged this point with a nod. "Well, we'd better hurry then. I don't exactly want to sleep on the streets." Harry hadn't even thought of this.

Realizing that Hermione was hurrying off in a random direction, he ran after her in attempt to catch up with her. This didn't prove to be difficult; Harry had grown at least two more inches since their last meeting, putting him slightly less than a head taller than her, and meaning his legs were much longer and were much more adapted to longer strides than hers.

"Hermione, do you know where you're going?" Harry questioned, not wanting to get lost in the outskirts of the small village.

Hermione answered as if Harry's question was one of the stupidest she'd ever heard, "Of course I know where we're going, to the Burrow!"

"That's not what I meant," Harry groaned. "Do you know what direction you're going in? Because I really would not like to get lost, or anything."

"Well, until you tell me which direction I should be going in," she started, "which I suggest you do if you do know, I'm going to continue in the direction in which I am currently walking." She continued walking, not having stopped to answer Harry's question, and silence lingered between the two of them until they passed the town's border.

Once they crossed the border into territory that belonged to no specific town, Hermione began to talk to Harry again.

"Professor Dumbledore sent me to fetch you," she muttered, breaking the uncomfortably long silence.

"You've been in contact with Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, remembering last summer when his two best friends were hanging around Sirius's house with several other people he would've liked to be in the company of. And then he remembered Sirius, wondering if there was anything he could think or talk about that didn't somehow connect to his dead godfather.

"Well, not really," Hermione elucidated. "I was staying with my parents this summer, waiting until Mrs. Weasley would come to pick me up and bring me back to the Burrow. I was just sitting around, rather bored, actually, when someone rang the doorbell. I answered it and found Professor Dumbledore on my doorstep. Imagine that," she laughed. "Anyway, he told me that I should look for you in Little Whinging, he said that now that Voldemort's come back, he reckoned it wasn't safe for you to be hanging around in a Muggle neighborhood where there weren't any permanent Wizarding homes or anything. He told me to find you and to get ourselves to the Burrow as fast as possible." They turned unconsciously, and began to amble down a winding, narrow road that seemed to have no end point. "He said that if we didn't hurry, a Death Eater or maybe even Voldemort himself would find us and surely try to kill you."

Silence followed Hermione's speech, only broken by the shuffling of feet on the road (which caused an unusually enormous cloud of dirt to exploded from the groud), or the snapping of a tree branch under one of the two's feet.

After walking along the narrow dirt path that surely not even one car could squeeze onto for nearly a quarter of an hour, they stopped, recognizing a large structure that loomed in the distance. It seemed as though Hermione's instincts, as normal, were right on target. But something just didn't seem right about it; something was missing.

Wisps of smoke flew up into sky, and not just from the multiple chimneys. The Burrow was missing its normally friendly, cozy atmosphere, a feeling that was replaced by dread and worry as Harry and Hermione neared the building.

Breaking into a run, the two found themselves at the foot of an enormous mess: The Weasleys' house. What had happened wasn't so obvious at the moment, however, they could tell that someone had clearly wreaked much havoc on the place; the front of the house, on the first floor, had an enormous hole blown in it, with pieces of the wall inside. The place was a mess; the table in the kitchen was on its side, as though someone knocked it over. The couches in the living room were torn apart, leaving feathers all over the place. Pictures of Ron and the rest of the family hung lopsidedly as though someone merely threw them onto the wall, not caring how perfectly it was lined up.

The only good thing that could be said about this scene was that there was no Dark Mark hovering above the house. Ron and the rest of the Weasleys were okay, but obviously not present.

Following Harry into the Burrow, Hermione stepped into one of the larger holes that had been blown into the wall on the first floor. She found herself in the kitchen, where utensils and pots and pans lay scattered all over the floor. She hurried over to the wall in the living room, hoping that…

No. The clock had gone, along with the Weasleys. There was nothing left in the house that could give them a clue as to where their best friend and his family had gone off to.

Tears began to form in Hermione's eyes, and Harry wore a morose expression on his face. He turned from Hermione and ran up the stairs, opening and closing the doors as loud as possible, as if he hoped Ron or Mrs. Weasley or Ginny could hear him and would come out of hiding.

He knew Fred and George were most likely in Diagon Alley, in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, at the moment, possibly unaware of the current state of their home. Walking down the stairs, back onto the first floor, he stated, "Nothing, no one," as if Hermione couldn't have figured that out.

"Where could they have gone?" she whispered. "What happened? Ron didn't send me a letter about this… Did he tell you?"

Harry shook his head, leaning against the wall and sinking down to the floor, head in his hands. Almost immediately after, he raised his head and rose, running over to Hedwig's cage, which still stood outside with his trunk.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione inquired, as the lid of his trunk flew open, and articles of clothing and spare quills and ink bottles landed on the ground. Grasping a piece of parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle in his hand, he quickly began to scribble something on the paper.

"Sending Hedwig to find Ron," he said simply. Hermione looked shocked. "I know, I know, it's surprising for me to think of something that clever, I know, but–"

"No, Harry, you don't understand," Hermione said, lowering her voice as if someone was eavesdropping on their conversation, her eyes red from the tears she had cried minutes before. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea." Harry snorted. "No, seriously Harry! Please, listen! Look, it's obvious that someone messed up this house. What if it was a Death Eater, and what if they want something to do with the Weasleys?" Harry listened to Hermione as he tied the rolled up parchment to Hedwig's leg. "If you send something to Ron, and he sends back a letter revealing his location… What if a Death Eater intercepts Hedwig and reveals Ron's hiding spot? It's not a clever idea to send off Hedwig to get a response from him!" Harry's snowy owl was gone when she looked up.

"Quite right, Ms. Granger," a voice said from behind them. Hermione let out a shriek of surprise, and Harry quickly looked up, withdrawing his wand from his pocket. "I don't think you'll find that you'll need that, Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed. It was Professor Dumbledore walking toward them, not Lucius Malfoy, or Rodolphus Lestrange, or any of the other Death Eaters that had avoided capture at the Department of Mysteries last year. "Professor… You scared me. Us."

"Did I? I didn't think I was _that_ scary, but if you say so," he commented. "Anyway, as Ms. Granger was saying, it would've been quite the better choice if you hadn't sent Hedwig off to find Ron."

"Well, do you know where the Weasleys are at the moment, Professor?" Harry asked, sounding rather annoyed.

"Yes, I do actually," Dumbledore answered, and heard sighs of relief from both of the students in front of him. Harry's heart felt as though it skipped a beat. Hermione showed a similar reaction.

"Where are they? Grimmauld Place? The Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione bombarded Dumbledore with the names of possible hiding places for the Weasleys.

Dumbedore merely chuckled. Harry's heart sank. He didn't want to ever set foot inside number twelve, Grimmauld place ever again. The memories he'd had with Sirius, ever since he'd learned the "escaped convict" was his godfather, would haunt him forever, more so when he resided in the house that belonged to his godfather.

"What happens to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, now that Sirius is… is, you know," Harry couldn't bear to say it. Tears welled in his eyes, but he was able to control them before they flooded his eyes and streamed down his cheeks.

"Ah, good question, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Unfortunately, I've got some bad news. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, has been completely cleared out. Why? Because when Sirius passed through the veil and was pronounced dead last June, ownership also passed. To his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. To complicate matters, Bellatrix, as you both probably know, is in Azkaban at the moment, probably plotting her escape as we speak. Thus, ownership was given to Rodolphus Lestrange, her husband. So now we know a Death Eater resides in number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Harry's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. The secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix had been given away to Death Eaters! This was outrageous! At least he didn't have to deal with Kreacher or Sirius's mother again.

"But that doesn't answer the question of where Ron is," Harry pointed out.

Dumbledore nodded. "Well, unfortunately, there are still Death Eaters lurking among us." Hermione immediately began combing the area. "No, Ms. Granger, probably not in this specific area, but free from prison. This means that any information passed must be as unspecific as possible. But first, let me fill you in on what happened to your friend, Mr. Weasley. I assume you both have been reading the _Daily Prophet_?"

Hermione nodded her head vigorously, but Harry shook his head, almost shamefully.

"That's quite alright Harry, let me tell you what has been going on in the Wizarding world. Why don't you sit down, this may take awhile." Obeying his Headmaster's orders, Harry took a seat on the bare ground, allowing Hermione to sit herself on his trunk.

The Hogwarts Headmaster continued. "So, as Ms. Granger apparently knows, the Death Eaters are back. They are searching for something very powerful. Four powerful jewels that will wreak havoc on both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds alike. They are known as the Jewels of Armageddon, although I believe that this is a misnomer; they won't cause Armageddon to happen, but something very terrible will happen if they are brought under the control of Voldemort and his faithful servants.

"However, the Death Eaters have only managed to find three of them. They've been searching for months now, anywhere that might hide this fourth Jewel. Unfortunately, it seems as though they saw the Burrow as a possible hiding place for it. Your poor friend and his family only had a few minutes' warning… I believe Mr. Weasley was able to pen a letter to you, Harry, although I don't believe you received it."

Harry's mind flashed back to earlier that day, as he and Hermione walked down Privet Drive, and heard Uncle Vernon shout, "OWL!" Assuming it was a letter from the Ministry of Magic, Harry disregarded then, but now began to think that this was Ron's letter.

"The Weasleys fled. They had nowhere to go, seeing as number twelve, Grimmauld Place might well be crawling with Death Eaters, and no inn accepted them, fearing they might bring the Death Eaters to their premises. Well, all inns except for one."

Hermione was quick to interrupt Dumbledore. "And which inn is this? And where is it? I bet it's one that very few people have heard of, so the Death Eaters would be able to find him."

"Right you are, again, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore continued. "Unfortunately, I can't reveal to you right now what the name of this inn is, just to be safe. You never know who can eavesdrop on you."

He offered out both of his hands to the students, Harry grabbing his right hand and his own trunk, Hermione his left hand and Hedwig's cage. Any Muggle who was watching would've sworn they saw the three people disappear, as if by magic.

Harry felt a curious sensation unlike any he'd ever felt before. He wasn't like Floo Powder, where he spun around incredibly fast, and felt dizzy at the end. It wasn't like the sensation he felt two summers ago when he traveled by Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup, which had pulled him by his navel. And it certainly didn't feel like flying on either a broom, a hippogriff, or a Thestral. The only this he could think of he describe the sensation was that he was pushed from his middle and lower back by something unknown, and so quickly that he felt as if he was about to topple over. Just as he reached the point when he was about to fall face-first onto the ground, the pressure from his back lifted, and he stopped.

Smiling, he thought to himself, _Cool, I just Apparated_.

A/N: Yes, I deliberately changed the sensation of Apparation, just because I wouldn't want any character to suffer the horrors of being stuffed through a pipe! cries Yeah.


End file.
